Ishvarun Evening
by MultiTasker
Summary: OCxScar...Scar has settled down back in Ishvar with his lover in hopes of leading out a normalenough life. But when military raiders fill the camp one night searching for Scar, they take young Kai back to Central as bait. Can he save her and live?
1. Her Love

It was quite a while until things came into focus to her mind. She was on the ground… on someone. Or underneath? She couldn't tell. Automatically, without letting Kai a chance to take control and measure up her own body, she moaned. It was a soft, piteous sound that burnt her throat and seemed very, _very_ loud in the dark, empty atmosphere.

Moving would have been so unexplainably painful that her cries would be pain in themselves, but she couldn't; she was pinned. She could feel every inch of the skin on her back forced into the steaming hot of the smooth stone ground, and the soft hide of her left cheek resting against another's skin. It made her grimace to know that her typical Ishvarun frame, frail and small-boned, was pinned beneath a mass that felt greater than an elephant's. Her automail hand rose from its free place on the dirt ground, fumbling blindly until it struck the body that was driven down heavily upon her.

A deep-toned grunt was the reply to her cold, metal touch. She shifted just slightly and sighed irritably, moving her flesh hand carefully, carefully…

"Ah!" She let out a pitiful yelp as the back her hand was smashed into the ground in a split second. Strong, masculine fingers laced with her long, slender ones, and an angry thumb pushed mercilessly into her pointer knuckle. She felt teeth sinking into her lower lip, but whether or not they were hers she couldn't quite tell. The pressure against her flesh helped to keep her from screaming, cries that might have risen on her tongue like bile.

"Don't… touch… me…" Finally gasped the figure on top of her. "Don't you… dare… touch me…"

Kai was nearly unable to stifle a yell as her hand was crushed into the hot ground. From her knuckles to her wrist she could feel the overwhelming weight of the other's hand until she thought she would burst into a fit of hollering. Suddenly the great burden was lifted from her body, except for her powerfully pinned hands, and the silhouette of a man took form in her crimson gaze.

His head hung, and silver beams from the wide moon glimmered through the pallid material of the tent to gleam on his white hair. A few loose strands hung over his dark, strangely scarred forehead, and the rest of it waved back over his great head. He was not old, though, it was plain to see. A tan, square jaw fell into a strong neck, which sloped into broad, sinister-tinted shoulders. In turn, these clashed into a barreling, strong chest and great arms, each ending with large hands that each pinned her hands beside her head now. Past the middle of his great back she could not see.

"I…" She gasped softly, at loss of words as he tilted his face to glare at her with deep, penetratingly angry red orbs.

"This… This sin…" He paused, or rather, he was interrupted by a moan that made his massive body rattle. "Agh… It… it is you… your fault… I… Angh…"

"I'm sorry," She finally managed. Her voice was naught but a cool whisper that rattled with a nearly inaudible fear.

He blinked, with a seeming softness as his lids closed briefly and rebounded from one another. He had fallen asleep, he guessed, after coaxing her into his small home with gentle words and fondling touches. He had been craving the sensation of feeling nothing more but her delicate body against his skin with nothing between them except unity. He was half-heartedly surprised that she had gone so easily to his wishes; not a word of objection had come from her. If he had hurt her, she showed no signs of it.

He found he had let his eyes stray. He sensed he had not been fully satisfied, and though that thought made him feel utterly conceited, he now knew why. It was sinful, to not be able to simply accept the fact that he had made love to her, but it baffled him that he had not torn her shirt away in his greedy attempt to lay her on the ground. He frowned, but the night's darkness masked this well. For some reason, he had thought that her bareness would bring him such ecstasy… such joy… but she had that teasing white muscle shirt on the whole time his moans and gasps had been floating through the camp. He had loved every living moment of it: hearing her kindly, begging whimpers in his ear, her hands clutching desperately for a hold on his great chest. He shivered softly, and her hands twitched beneath his probably-painful grip as if to instinctively touch his face comfortingly.

"No," He finally muttered. "I… I was forgetful."

"Ah," Kai smiled softly, "I wasn't quite certain where I was either. You frightened me."

For a short while, Scar said nothing in response. The young girl, whose dark hips were trapped between his muscular legs, trembled softly. It reminded him that he had frightened her, and he sat back on her legs and gently pulled her hands together between his. She yelped as he tenderly pulled her to a sitting position, and he carefully brushed his hands around her arms, behind her to massage her shoulder blades, and then to pull her close against his chest.

Morning. The bright, stinging light of the six o' clock sun changed the color behind Kai's lids and made her writhe, turning her head to-and-fro. It was bright and full-on, angry even. She pulled the covers up to hide her tanned face, groaning sorely. Mornings were not supposed to have an unforgiving sun waking a soul; where were the birds singing fairy-tale tunes to make her sit up and stretch?

"Get up," The words were spoken deeply, but gently, and she found the sheets were being pulled away and she was being dragged into a bear-hug.

She grunted quietly, her fingers reaching up behind her holder's head to curl into his soft hair. She tucked her head against his chest, clothed by a soft, yellowish shirt as his large, comforting hands settled on her dainty waist. The muscular shoulders shuttered with a soft chuckle, which sounded so very alien to his masculine voice. He hardly ever even smiled; he always scowled and stared at others through those dark glasses, propped so very carefully on his nose. Kai looked up adoringly at him, her lips sealed together in a shy smile.

The day started out typically: she showered briefly as the scent of morning herbs tickled the air. The water was warm, as to be expected in the desert, but it was greatly appreciated; her muscles were sore. It trickled over her dark skin, causing it to glimmer in random lighting, and flooded through her boy-short, umber locks.

She could feel him right outside the shower. She closed her rubescent eyes, letting her hand wander out until she felt the metal knob brushing against her wet fingers. With a soft squeak, the knob turned to a feather-light touch, and the water ceased flowing, the last drops hitting the ground with a final splat. Her eyes still closed, she pulled the soft towel around her warm body. A soft sigh, pulled like a ghost from the depths of her chest, fumbled from her lips as she opened her eyes.

It was good to see what she expected: him. He was standing there, with his great hands hanging calmly at his sides, his eyebrows pulled together and lifted to give him a kind-hearted look. Automatically her dark feet had slipped into ivory sandals, and she was smiling that coy, timid smile. Her stride, though closed slightly in the folds of her towel, was graceful, hurrying to get to him.

The rest of the day was old-hat, with nothing in the great cerulean sky except the honey-golden disk of a sun. The couple sat in front of their tent on the sloping hill for a part of the day, watching the 'village' of refugees bustle around. He'd smooth his perfect hand down across the back of her shirt and she'd lean her head on his shoulder and tell him how much she loved him. Never before had her body had such a faint ache, and then again never before had she let a man push her to the ground and love her so strongly. Anyway, the habitual cosseting was welcome and savored.

She'd go inside after a while and make lunch, what ever he felt like eating. She was never picky with food… she simply ate. As of late, she wasn't too concerned with food or survival or any of that junk she usually had to be fretting for. She knew she was nothing more but a love-sick puppy now, wanting desperately just to be beside him, around him, serving him. She was his.

For the rest of the day they would simply help their neighbors. Whether it was watching children for parents of pitching their backs to help someone move supplies, they did what they could. Kai would sometimes pause to watch him work, marveling with wine-tinted orbs as he hoisted a crate on his shoulders or helped a little girl with her studies. Either way he was a gentle giant, handling supplies with care and speaking quietly, if at all.

Evening settled on the desert. The sun was a perfectly oval ball of rouge on the amethyst horizon. Across the dome-like sky, where the dark lavender faded to midnight black, a near-full, titian-hued moon hung, listening to the lonely cries of the coyotes. Kai listened to the eerie wails from her tent, her legs entwined in the warm sheets of the makeshift bed on the ground. She laid on her side, curled slightly, her slender hands pressed together beneath her rosy cheek. Her bare shoulders rested between the sheets, which also outlined her thin, curved body, showing her sides perfectly as they rose and fell with her breathing.

The howling fell silent, and a comforting silence filled her ears. The world grew even darker as she closed her eyes, shifting with a comfortable sigh. The silence was briefly interrupted by the light rustling of a tent flap, and her eyelids fluttered open. She turned onto her back, propped on her elbows, her heart giving a leap to see his muscular silhouette outlined in the light of the moon.

Her lips parted to speak, but he held up his hand and she fell silent. She held the covers against her chest, amazed that he couldn't hear her furiously beating heart as he knelt before her. She found herself sitting up, eager for his words, his touch. Her metal hand reached out and she gingerly let her shimmering steel fingers stroke his brown jaw line.

That soft, vaguely familiar smile split his dark lips for a brief moment and he leaned towards her, pushing his mouth against hers and thrusting his tongue through her teeth. She gasped softly, a hand flying to touch his great chest for reassurance. His hands firmly secured her back, pulling her tightly against his masculine body as his tongue searched the depths of her mouth before gripping hers.

She whimpered when he broke the kiss, a begging, musical plea. His hands were large, of course, but so very gentle as he rubbed her bare back, nuzzling his head into her neck. She shuttered softly, her hands slipping around him. She noticed how thick he truly was now… she could feel every row of rock-hard muscle, plating his abs, coating his ribs, brimming on his back, and bulging beneath his skin.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke was heavy on the air. Kai gasped softly, wondering if the two of them had sparked something. No, she realized, that was illogical. She placed her hand timidly against his chest and pushed him back with the gentlest of touches. Puzzled, he searched her eyes for a reason why she was refusing him. She sniffed the air, which ended up being foolish. She choked and her hand flew to clasp over her mouth. Her automail hand flew out, grasping for her shirt. He leaned back and stood as she dressed herself, staring wistfully and forlornly. Then, he smelled it too.

Silently, he took her hand and pulled her gently outside. They stood in the midst of a raid. Fire, twisting and roaring, was all around, splitting among wood and tents. Fear lifted in Kai's throat and she gave a choked gasp as a side on the tent across from theirs burst into a bright yellow flame. She tore away from his side and lunged into the home. It was of a child's alone, and she couldn't watch as the young boy was cooked to a crisp. He was curled up, sleeping, coughing loudly. She gathered the child in her arms and came barreling from the ten just as it smashed to the ground.

"Kai," The child whimpered, clutching her hand as she put him down. "My home… our village, what's wrong?"


	2. Sparks

"It's the military," cut in the strong voice of her lover as he pulled Kai close.

Countless words crossed the young Ishvarun's mind, burning tears of anger filling her bright, flame-lit eyes. She knew that they were searching for him… but she'd lost him once before and she didn't want to lose him again. As the child scurried off with his reappeared mother, she tucked her face against his chest. The hot air filled her lungs in a deep breath, where she held it until it rushed out like a river with a broken dam. She tilted back her head to look pleadingly at Scar, but the man obviously wasn't certain what to do.

"You've got to get out of here," she finally whimpered, pressing her fist gently against his chest. "It's the military, they'll catch you again!"

"I'm not a coward," he returned shortly, taking her by the shoulders. "I refuse to run."

"You have to," the girl cried beseechingly. "Please, I don't want to lose you… Oh, I—I hear them coming, go, go!"

The Ishbalan man had little, if any choice at all. Kai wriggled out of his strong hold and pushed him away, her eyes fierce and shining. Scar hesitated, the flames making his dark skin glow a brilliant scarlet. She lunged at him, held herself tightly against the great mass of a man, and pushed him back further. He knew she wouldn't let him stay; so he went. Though, in all truth he wanted to run so very far, he couldn't. He was bound by that damn girl, and he realized that more than ever as the sound of angry shouts and meeting swords filled the air.

Note: I know, it's short…. I'm sorry.


End file.
